Epilogue
by darkmouse jumu
Summary: Bond of Flame Epilogue. Mini-chapters of six pairings centered around winter holiday. Includes ZexLex, XigDem, XalLux, MarVex, XemSai and the inevitable AkuRoku. Vignette-style.
1. Chapter 1

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

_Midnight 12/25_

"No," Zexion said into the vidphone. "It's okay. Someone has to do it, right?" Stepping around a sleeping, snow dusted fountain, Zexion turned off the vid setting and tucked the phone under his ear so he could fish for his keys. "Get home safe, Lexaeus," he said softly, and paused, listening to his lover as the lock gave and Zexion stepped into the chilly, stagnant air of a house left to itself since early that morning. "Yeah, I'm in. I just locked the door. Okay. Yeah." He blushed, and answered Lexaeus's words softly. "I love you too. Merry Christmas, Lex."

A few of the University students had fallen ill around the middle of December that year, and hadn't recovered well enough to take their exams until two days before Christmas. For the past two days he, Lexaeus and the other core professors involved were cramming as many exams as they could into the little time they had left. Classes had ended for the term, but the exam grades hadn't been submitted yet. They had until the Friday-next after exams which, coincidentally, was Christmas. No one had been amused, but no one wanted these kids to fail when it was possible to send them forward a step for the new term.

Bag dropped on the table next to the door, Zexion kicked off his boots and, failing that, bent to unlace and un-cinch the snug leather from his feet. Kicking them aside he stumbled into the kitchen and checked on the slow-cooker stew they'd assembled earlier that day for a simple dinner. It was done, so he replaced the lid and turned the element off, letting the insulated structure keep it hot. He'd eat it later. Or Lex, when he got in, would dip bread into the broth to eat and pick out chunks of good roast, too, avoiding the vegetables with an air of "just passing by." Typical. Zexion smiled at the image all the same. Stumbling into the living room, he fell face first onto the large couch there and twisted into a comfortable position, dragging a blanket draped over the back down over him. Cold, tired and a little disappointed, he sank gratefully into the blanket and, though it warmed him only marginally, fell asleep within minutes.

It was almost two in the morning, Christmas morning, when Lexaeus unlocked the front door and shucked off his coat and boots in much the same manner as Zexion before him. Heedless of where they fell, he paused in the kitchen and caught a piece of roast with a fork, testing to see if it was done, how the flavor was. Smiling at the success, he reached to turn the element off and realized Zexion had beat him to it. Picking a little bread off the loaf, he dipped it in the broth and ate a little, letting the hot, savory liquid warm his belly. It was snowing now, outside, and the temperature had dropped as he'd walked home. Gods he was grateful to have spent most of the trip on Radiant Garden's transit. Just the short walk from the station to the house and left him totally chilled, and the house was no better. Zexion must have gone straight to bed. He wondered with a smile if his lover had bothered to take off his parka before crawling between the sheets.

A thought struck him then, and he went back to the front door and rifled through Zexion's bag until he found the man's forgotten vidphone in a pouch on the side. Taking it with him to the bedroom Lexaeus crept over to Zexion's side of the bed and set it on the nightstand.

Zexion wasn't in the bed.

While his heart tasted briefly the cold of the room at the unexpected find, Lexaeus went out into the living room and breathed a sleepy sigh of relief. He was on the couch, balled up like a puppy and fast asleep beneath a heavy blanket. Lexaeus smiled and bent to scoop him up into his arms.

"Nooo…." Zexion moaned, coming awake.

"You should come to bed," Lexaeus advised.

Zexion shook his head, though he leaned into Lexaeus's warm chest in spite of this, and complained, "I had it warm back there."

Turning to the side so he could get them both through the doorway, Lexaeus grinned and laid Zexion on his back on the bed. "Let me make it up to you then," he said. "I'll warm you up instead." He kissed Zexion soundly, tasting his cool lips and warm tongue, feeling the memories of the long, exhausting day fading fast.

With a shiver of pleasure, or chill, or both, Zexion pulled him down on top of him as they kissed, fingers splayed across Lexaeus's broad shoulders. Large hands roamed over Zexion, unbuttoning here and unzipping there, deftly freeing him of his clothes. While Lexaeus got free of his own, Zexion pulled the blankets over himself. The big man crawled naked beneath the covers and lay over him, kissing his neck and moaning in the back of his throat as Zexion slid his fingertips along the sides of his torso, forming them around the shapes of familiar muscles.

"Ah," Zexion gasped softly as Lexaeus's tongue stroked a sensitive spot.

"Warming up?" Lexaeus asked with a grin.

"No," Zexion told him, and brought his mouth down for another kiss.

"I see," Lexaeus said, and withdrew to begin kissing down his lover's chest, tongue lingering over the nipples and tracing a wet trail down to Zexion's navel. Leaving a light kiss on his lover's cock, Lexaeus moved down farther still, kissing the inside of each thigh and curving his hands over Zexion's ass, squeezing as he moved his palms down and between to more hidden places, circling his entrance with a finger and caressing the place between it and his balls and drank in the delicious moans it earned him. He kissed down past Zexion's knees, pausing to stroke the soft flesh behind them with his tongue. Zexion shuddered and Lexaeus smiled, kissing down over his ankles and taking a foot in each hand to rub the soles with his thumbs. When he was certain Zexion had forgotten about the cold, he caressed his way back up his body, and stopped at his hips to lower his mouth over Zexion's hard heat. He slicked it with his tongue and blew, gently. Zexion writhed, moans and gasps coming more readily now. Stroking it once more from base to head with his tongue, Lexaeus pulled his mouth away despite protest from Zexion and brought Zexion's knees over his shoulders as he slid fingers inside him, working the muscles there open.

When he was ready, Lexaeus looked up and found his lover lying back against the pillows, his face flushed with desire. Feeling another surge of lust, Lexaeus pressed himself inside and curved his body down over Zexion's, kissing him hard and long as he began to move. Zexion had a way of moaning when he did this that set him on fire, the gasps and keens broken and muffled. Zexion's hands clutched his shoulders and the smaller man angled his hips in the way that, when Lexaeus thrust in again, he hit the sensitive place that made him twist and arch beneath him. Zexion's body was covered in sweat now; it was too dark to see it but he tasted it on his chest and neck, and Zexion finally took the blankets and threw them aside.

The room was still cold, but it was a sweet sensation against their hot flesh. Outside, the snow fell harder, lit by the soft glow of the city. Zexion lay helpless against the pillows, oblivious to everything but his lover. "Lexaeus… So… good… ohh…"

Lexaeus didn't see the snowfall or feel the cold either, tuned in instead to the sounds Zexion made, the quickness of his breath and his voice, and to the soft heat of his flesh. He rocked his hips harder then, Zexion's higher-pitched moan sent him flying. Withdrawing, Lexaeus turned him gently over and entered from behind so he could reach around and stroke the smaller man's hardness, slick with precome. Lexaeus bent over him and nibbled at his spine as he drove deep inside Zexion's hot sheath, groaning helplessly in the back of his throat at its slight, delicious tightness around him. "I'm… Zexion… almost…"

Zexion nodded and arched back toward him, keening and gasping, and came over his lover's hand. Lexaeus couldn't contain himself after that and came with a shout on the next thrust. Releasing Zexion, he helped him over to the pillows and snuggled up against his back, stroking the man's hip with his thumb. "Better?" He asked, hoarse with exertion.

Taking his hand, Zexion tangled their fingers and leaned back against Lexaeus's chest. "Hmm…" Releasing his hand, he rolled over and tucked his small body into his lover's, twining their legs, and wrapped his arms around him. "Yes."

Grinning, Lexaeus reached for the covers and pulled them back over them both. Returning his lover's embrace, Lexaeus kissed the top of his head. "Merry Christmas, Ienzo."

"Merry Christmas, Aeleus," Zexion whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

_Dawn 12/25_

Demyx woke with the dawn and laid for a time under Xigbar's arm, watching the snowfall shift in tone as the sun rose behind the clouds. When it seemed the day wasn't going to get much brighter, he rolled over and snuggled close, inhaling the scent off his lover's neck. Xigbar made a sound low in his throat and embraced Demyx tighter. The younger man winced, the bruises along his side right under Xigbar's forearm, and pulled away, sitting up as the last traces of sleep cleared from his mind. Overnight the cabin had taken the chill from outside, so Demyx tucked the blanket snugly back around Xigbar and paused. Thin, slowly deepening lines scored his face where it scrunched when he smiled, grinned, laughed… Beneath Demyx's fingers, the skin was cool and just a little coarse along his jaw where stubble grew in shades of grey. He looked old, yes, but, Demyx thought as he brushed strands of soft graying hair out of Xigbar's face, but not aged. Not worn or tired or sore.

Well, maybe a little sore. But they'd taken enough tumbles from the sled yesterday to justify that. He smiled at the memory and left the bed to borrow Xigbar's robe from the door of the small bathroom and threw a few logs onto the hearth and build a little fort of kindling to ignite the rest. It was harder than he'd thought; the fire would go for a little bit, but burn itself out before the logs could really get to burning. Odd. He'd never had much trouble lighting campfires. Scowling at the tepid coals of burned paper and small sticks, it surprised him to feel a hand on his shoulder.

"Xiggy, you're awake."

Nodding groggily, Xigbar kissed the side of Demyx's face and looked at the fire. "Got a good start here, little dude."

"I don't know," Demyx bit his lip. "It won't stay lit. How did you do that yesterday?"

Xigbar knelt beside him and bent to readjust the logs and form a little fort of kindling beneath the arrangement. "You have to trap the heat in, let it get hot. But it has to breathe, too."

When it was finally lit, Xigbar threw another log on for good measure and Demyx put the lighter aside and flopped back on the bear-fur hearthrug. "You could stay warm just doing that," he said. It hadn't been hard, or exerting, but had kept him moving just enough to stay comfortably warm, snug in the robe. Xigbar straddled his hips and bent to bite the side of Demyx's neck, sliding a finger along the collar of the robe.

"I was under the impression something else was keeping you warm," Xigbar smirked.

Leaning up, Demyx snared the back of his head and pulled him down long enough to nip at the crest of his ear. "Sorry," he said, shrugging out of the robe and tugging it free of where he sat. Then he looped it around Xigbar's shoulders and kissed him, holding onto the collar as he sank back onto the rug, Xigbar pulled along with him. "You can have it back."

Xigbar shucked it off and threw it back toward the bed. "I've found something else I want instead," he growled playfully, sliding his hands up Demyx's thermal shirt.

"Mmm," Demyx moaned, and grinned as Xigbar's mouth shaped his and his warm tongue slid in, stroking and exploring. While the fire warmed and sparked, snapping on sap in the logs, Xigbar pulled Demyx's shirt over his head to throw it over with the robe. Two pairs of snug fleece pants followed and Demyx, with a smirk, climbed free of their tangled legs and pushed Xigbar down against the rug to sink between his thighs and take Xigbar's cock into his mouth. The man moaned and lay back against the furs as Demyx stroked the shaft with his tongue and scraped his teeth gently over the hole centered in the sensitive head. As he pressed the tip of his tongue along that same entry, he caressed his balls gently in his palm and working his fingers back to the place behind them, stroking the sensitive stretch of skin gently.

"Aaahh," Xigbar moaned, and then swore. "It's weird knowing Marluxia taught you … ohhhhhhh… taught you this…"

"Nope," Demyx said when he came up.

Xigbar hardly noticed that he'd stopped. "Really?"

"It was Xaldin's idea," Demyx admitted, and took him in his mouth again before he could swear himself limp. When Xigbar had calmed down, Demyx fingered his entry tenderly, without a lot of confidence. Unused to being the recipient of such caresses, Xigbar moaned and shifted, protesting loudly when Demyx drew away from his hips and stood up. He shut up when he realized Demyx was lowering himself over his cock and helped him settle over it, eyes drinking in the sight of it disappearing into Demyx's familiar warmth and the mixed look of pleasure and effort on his face. When they had his legs settled, Demyx leaned forward a little bit, blushing bright red. The shift almost did Xigbar in, and he barely heard Demyx speak.

"Gods, I feel… so… naked!"

Xigbar reached up, his breath coming in little pants now, and caressed the younger man's cheek and jaw. "You're beautiful," he whispered, running his eyes over the man's body. "Every inch."

Blushing brighter red, Demyx lowered his face and began to move, lifting slowly and sliding back down over Xigbar's cock. Xigbar cupped his hands at his hips and helped him move, and Demyx's voice seeped into the air, Xigbar's hips rising in rhythm with him, until he was almost yelling, pulling up fast and coming down hard just as Xigbar thrust up inside him. Xigbar pressed a hand to Demyx's chest and showed him how to angle so his cock hit the sensitive place deep inside him.

"So… good…" Demyx moaned, his keening taking a desperate tone that aroused Xigbar even further. "More…"

Xigbar couldn't resist that. "Want me… to touch you?" He gasped.

"Yes…" Demyx moaned emphatically.

"Ask me too," Xigbar pressed, using his hands to slow his lover's eager thrusts.

"T…Touch me…" Demyx gasped, and blushed furiously. He looked at Xigbar, read his expression and sighed, a little pleasured groan riding in on the end of it. "Touch me… Xigbar," he moaned.

Nodding, Xigbar let him move a little faster again, adjusting the rhythm of his hips to fit Demyx's. Then he closed his fist over his naked member, stroking in rhythm with his thrusts, and looked up at Demyx's face. The bliss on his face made him remove his hand, lift Demyx off his hard heat and push him down onto his stomach, caressing down his torso to lift his hips so he could press back inside, thrusting in hard and fast, a finger pressed over the hole in Demyx's cock. Demyx arched and keened, writhing as surges of pleasure wove hard through his body, pushing him toward his limits. The rug was bunched in his fists, his voice overwhelming the fire, the snowfall outside, but not Xigbar's own. Xigbar thrust in hard over and over, calling his name and stroking his cock until sweet release shook through him in a burst of ecstasy. Beneath him, Demyx quivered and spent hotly over Xigbar's hand, still moaning as he sank into the warm rug. Xigbar fell clumsily on top of him and the younger man's arms curled around him loosely, trembling but holding him in place.

"Merry Christmas, Xiggy," Demyx whispered, his face beet red in the warm, roaring firelight. Xigbar sat up a little bit and chuckled, threading his fingers through Demyx's hair, watching his eyes start to drift shut.

"Merry Christmas, little dude," he chuckled, and kissed his eyelids as they drifted shut. He'd forgotten about the holiday. When Demyx was sound asleep, he rose and cleaned them both up before sliding Demyx into the bed and tucking the blankets in around him. He slept for a good hour, and only roused when Xigbar shook him and helped him sit up and hold a plate full of breakfast, grinning as Demyx's eyes lit up. He loved breakfast in bed. Xigbar grinned and went to get his own plate and ate with him. Afterward, Demyx got out of bed and dressed to help him with the dishes, the snow falling steadily outside in the dim daylight.

"Can we come here next year, too?" Demyx asked, handing Xigbar a plate to dry.

"I'd like that," Xigbar said, accepting the plate and toweling it dry. "You can light my fire again."

"And you can cook me breakfast in bed," Demyx chirped, and grinned when their eyes met.


	3. Chapter 3

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

_Noon 12/25_

"It's really coming down out there."

Xaldin came and stood with him by the window, passing him hot mulled cider. "Good thing it hit today, huh?"

Luxord nodded. "Yeah, we'd close up early just to make sure those idiots got home before it got bad."

Smirking, Xaldin sipped his cider. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"We lose business," Luxord pointed out.

"We have sex on the bar," Xaldin pointed out, sliding a hand over his lover's ass.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Xaldin," Luxord shot back, but leaned a little against the bigger man anyway. Xaldin grinned and shifted to wrap his arm around the blond man. They'd exchanged gifts that morning. Xaldin had given Luxord a personalized deck of cards that came with a polished cherry wood box, in addition to the new pair of sex dice, with new and improved suggestions to roll. Luxord had told him his gift had been hidden and to undress him until he found it. After they'd made love, Luxord had pulled a bottle of booze from under the bed and given it to him as well. It had cost him about a sixth of what the Gummi ship he'd won was actually worth, but the look on Xaldin's face when he realized what it was, the Mecca of all booze as far as he was concerned, had been worth it thrice over. They'd opened it right then and had some, toasting to another twenty years, made breakfast, and switched to the cider.

Xaldin was peering out the window, his forehead against the pane. "Shit, will you look at that?"

Luxord followed his example even as Xaldin set his cup down on a side table and went to the door leading to the stairs. Hoping he wasn't seeing what he thought he was, Luxord followed his example.

Downstairs the bar was still and quiet, totally clean and waiting for the holiday to be over. Luxord shivered and followed Xaldin over to the broad windows set at either side of the front door. Snow was piled up high to cover the lower half of each, and probably the door, too.

"I don't know how you can be down here naked," Luxod shivered.

"Thought so," Xaldin nodded, sparing a smirk for Luxord's comment and gesturing to the window. "Good thing we did all our shopping Monday."

"Yeah," Luxord said, watching the snow blizzard down through the upper half of the windows, the lower half covered by a high drift of packed snow. The storm was getting worse: it was still early afternoon yet the light was as dim as nightfall. Xaldin went to him and chafed the other man's hands between his own.

"Cold?"

"Mm," Luxord said. He hadn't put anything over his boxers to come down here. "Should we clear some of-"

_Thoom._

"What was that?"

The sound had been soft, but had come from all directions. Luxord felt a chill go down his spine and he grabbed Xaldin's hand, pulling him upstairs fast. On the other side of the door at the top of the stairs, nothing had changed in their absence. Not at first glance anyway. Luxord knelt to warm his hands at the heating vent near the door and frowned. Xaldin was in the kitchen, shutting the refrigerator door. "Power's out."

Luxord nodded. "Yeah. Should we turn on the generator?"

"No," Xaldin said. "Let's save if for this evening, in case it doesn't come back on right away."

"Let's turn it on before we run out of daylight, though," Luxord said, smirking. "I'm not climbing out of a second-floor window in the dark, unless you want to."

Xaldin chagrined. "Not really. We still have a few hours yet." He looked outside. "Hopefully, anyway."

Luxord nodded and went into their bedroom. The previous owners of the building had built a fireplace there and they'd patched it up and refined it over the years, though they rarely used it. The black steel bin beside it didn't hold logs, but old phonebooks they'd thrown there over the years. Luxord piled them on with an old log or two he found at the bottom and set about lighting the mess. By the time Xaldin joined him with more wood they'd stored in the basement just in case, the room was nearly warm. Adding a couple logs to the mess, Xaldin dropped the rest in the half-empty bin. "Phonebooks, Lux, really?"

Already crawling beneath warm blankets, Luxord grinned at him and made a show of throwing his boxers aside where most of their clothes from last night already lay.

Xaldin went to the bed and threw the blankets aside, watching the light of the fire play over Luxord's body as he scowled up at him. Chuckling, Xaldin crawled over him. "Relax, love, I'll warm you."

"You better," Luxord snarled as Xaldin pinned him with a rough kiss.

"Oh, I will," Xaldin said, releasing his lover's mouth and tracing the man's warm lips with his tongue. "Little by little."

"Bastard," moaned Luxord, tugging a couple of dreadlocks in his disapproval. Xaldin rumbled low in his throat and nibbled down Luxord's neck, hands roaming with slow intensity. As he stroked and rubbed, his hair worked over his shoulders and hung lightly against Luxord's cheek. Lifting a hand, Luxord pressed it to his lips, his eyes meeting Xaldin's over the moment. Xaldin smirked and scrubbed his fingers back through Luxord's short blond hair, stroking the man's ear with his tongue. Luxord groaned low in his throat with pleasure, and slid his hands down Xaldin's sides to cup his ass in his palms, squeezing and kneading gently with his fingers.

Xaldin bit Luxord's ear, tonguing his piercing gently before leaning away and sitting astride his hips, his lover's erection hard and hot against his ass. Taking Luxord by his upper arms, he caressed his skin down to the fingertips and drew them in to stroke his own hard cock. The man fondled him with long-practiced expertise, finding all the places that made him moan and throw his head back. When he did, his dreads sank lower, brushing the head of Luxord's hard heat where it rested against Xaldin's back, throbbing. Luxord drew his hands away, sliding them up his lover's firm body and into his hair, pulling one dreadlock over his shoulder and sliding his fingers down the length, his eyes on Xaldin's. Sighing, Xaldin flipped his hair over Luxord's chest and kissed and licked his way slowly to Luxord's hips, skirting the sensitive areas with nips and swipes of his tongue. He blew onto the wetness and Luxord writhed in bliss, moaning little affirmations. Xaldin looked up, and found his lover's face was flushed softly red with desire, his eyes dazed and mouth slightly open. Then he smiled, and slowly ran his tongue over his lips. Xaldin felt a pang, and the desire to hold him in his arms and dive deep inside him surged over him body and soul. Lifting his hips, he sank over Luxord's cock, taking him in with only small twinges of pain. Beneath him Luxord lay gasping, eyes never leaving his. Their gazes still locked, Xaldin began to move slowly, sliding up and down. Luxord let him, for a while, drinking him in with his legs sprawled and sheen of sweat on his skin. Then he was shifting, pushing him off and handcuffing his hands together. Xaldin smirked at him and used the chain to pull Luxord's face in for a deep kiss. Then Luxord bound his hands to the head of the bed, licking the inside of each wrist before he moved away. He returned with the dice, and rolled them on Xaldin's muscular stomach.

Lick. Nipple.

Luxord straddled Xaldin's belly, swiping the dice aside, and brought his chest close to Xaldin's mouth. With his tongue, Xaldin followed the silent command of the dice, licking and sucking one nipple, then shifting to the other. Then he bit down gently. "Roll the dice. Your turn."

Luxord rolled for him.

Caress. Buttcheek.

"Huh," Xaldin said. "What will you do, Lux?" The big man purred, teasing him and jerking the handcuffs meaningfully. "I'm sitting on my ass. You'll have to move the handcuffs down over the bar if you want me to lay down."

Luxord went to the bedside table and retrieved a blindfold and put it over Xaldin's eyes. "Count to two hundred when you hear the door close. After that, you can take the blindfold off and come find me."

When Xaldin agreed, Luxord took the handcuffs off of him and slid a finger over the inch of exposed flesh below his lower back, fulfilling the mandate of the dice. Then, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Obediently, Xaldin counted to two hundred (or as close as the urgency of arousal allowed), and peeled off the blindfold. Sure enough, Luxord had left the room.

The hallway was empty, and cold. So was the kitchen, the dining room and living room. The front entryway was vacant too. Xaldin, having covered most of the house, smirked. That left a few possibilities. Like the bathroom, the basement, and the bar. The last two would be synonymous to fucking in a refrigerator, so Xaldin, very quietly, opened the bathroom door. As silently as he could manage, he tiptoed over to the shower, whose water was running and exuding steam all over the place, and opened the door. The water was running hot, little rivulets running steaming down the drain in the center of the floor. Beneath the spray stood Luxord, both hands cuffed together, eyes closed and water running down over his head and face, down his neck and trailed over his nude, aroused body liberally. Something like electricity surged powerfully through Xaldin, and it felt a little like being envious of water. Luxord leaned a little out of the spray and opened his eyes slowly, watching him. Staying as composed as possible, Xaldin strode slowly into the glass box of the shower and, starting at Luxord's left, walked around him in a slow half-circle, visually taking him in as he reached his right side.

Luxord caught his breath, knowing it must be some kind of restraint on Xaldin's part, but the man looked feral and wild, coiled and ready to spring like a predator. Xaldin finally came in close and touched him gingerly, fingertips light, caressing the little rivers of water where they slid down Luxord's body. By the time Xaldin had touched every single one, Luxord was moaning and weak in the knees, leaning against the tile behind him as Xaldin caressed gently the places between his lover's toes. Seeming satisfied, Xaldin stood up and gave him two commands. "Turn around."

Luxord obliged him.

"Bend over."

Again, Luxord obeyed, palms flat against the slick tile, breath coming in gasps with anticipation. He didn't have to wait long. Xaldin drew up behind him and pressed slowly inside him, all the way, then drew slowly out. Then back in again, so slowly, and out again. After a minute or two of painstaking pleasure, Luxord was keening and panting, begging for speed, for hard, powerful thrusts.

Finally, Xaldin gave in to what his lover wanted and took him hard and fast, palms braced on his hips and cock driving deep inside. Luxord cried out suddenly in the middle of it, something like a scream, and came hard, throwing his head back and arching his back. The sight finished Xaldin and he rode out the orgasm in bliss, barely coming to in time to catch Luxord as he sagged. They sat under the spray in each other's arms for a while, catching their breath. Then, when the water went cold, they turned it off and toweled each other dry, and left to go crawl into the warmth of the bedroom. Only the handcuffs remained, forgotten on the tile floor of the shower where Luxord had left them when he took them off.


	4. Chapter 4

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

_Late Afternoon 12/25_

"I'll be back in a while," his lover had said. For being a holiday, there wasn't a seat open on the train. As the machine shifted and ran along the tracks, he swayed, gripping the hand loop for balance, heart racing. He still usually smiled to feel it, but not now. Outside the train window, the city was aglow in the pale afternoon, the cloud cover thick and darkening fast, promising snow.

Would the night be cold, without him to warm him?

Don't think that way.

The phone call had scared him to death. "Yeah, he's in the hospital."

"What happened?"

"A bus."

"Don't you know anything else?"

"Someone had already called an ambulance and gotten him out of there by the time I got down there! Don't yell at me! They took him to St. Terra's, of course."

The stillness of the air outside the train was stifling. He ran through the turnstile and out of the station. Under the clouds, the air was no better, just chillier. It was all so still, so fragile.

Like hearts. Like life.

He knew the hospital like the back of his hand. It had begun as a penance, atonement, and grown into something more. Something living and breathing, joyful and sad. Nothing made more sense than things did inside those walls. It was the purest thing he knew.

Except for him. He topped every chart.

Nurses scampered aside wide-eyed, unused to seeing him running. Some of them chastised him, patients and their families scowled at him. He nearly crashed into a Christmas tree avoiding a child carrying a cup of water. He stopped to steady her and apologize, then continued on his way to the E. R. The nurses there didn't have him. That could be good.

That could be bad. His brain buzzed, recalling Schroedinger and his cat. It was both until it was one or the other.

"Oh, doctor!" One of the nurses waved him down. "You're looking for him, right? He's on the third floor, in 309 or 311. I don't remember which."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't know," she said, looking apologetic. "They could have come from the E.R. or surgery or anywhere. I don't know."

He nodded. "Thanks," and took off for the third floor.

It was his own damn fault, really. He kept to himself, always had ever since… well, everything. _He_ was the only person he needed, lover and friend. Wherever that man went, his home went with him. To the grocery store, to work, to the bed, to the curb to cross the street, to the hospital, to the morgue…

Shaking it off, he waited for the elevator to stop at the third floor and finally the doors slid open. The hallway echoed his footsteps softly, empty and quiet and immaculate. Everything he had, it seemed, was right here right now. Patients, nurses, worried families and relatives come to visit with guitars to play someone's limited time away sweetly. And now, him. He'd thought he'd known what Mecca was, where the epitome of it all resided.

He'd been wrong.

He ran still, in the three-fifties and moving down to the forties… blazed down an intersection and blasted through the thirties and twenties… teens….

A bedpan flew out an open door, followed by an indignant shout.

"I do _not_ need a catheter!"

For a second, his heart stopped.

"But that bus…"

"That 'bus' took far more damage than I did! No! Get back with that needle!"

The bus took more damage. He believed it. His trench coat had been spread behind him like khaki wings and now settled at his calves as he stopped at the door, watching the scene on the other side. _He_ was in the bed, safe and sound and furious with the gaggle of nurses around him, giggling and playfully trying to impose help on him. Blood pressure gauges, stethoscopes, needles, catheter tubes, even a reflex hammer. He collapsed by the door in a surge of relief, laughing helplessly.

"You did hurt your ankle though, didn't you? Let me make sure your reflexes are all right."

"No!" Snarled the man, and turned his protests on the doctor laughing in the doorway. "Xemnas! It's not funny!"

Looking up helplessly, Xemnas tried to bite back the laughter and speak at the same time. "You're… right, Saix, it's… it's…" he shook his head, and dissolved again. "It's very serious business."

"Right," Saix said, glaring at the nurses teasing him.

"So you should sit back and let them examine you," Xemnas told him.

Saix flared and snarled. "No!"

Getting to his feet, laughter dissolving, Xemnas dismissed the nurses and went to sit on his lover's bed and gathered him close, arms tight around Saix's back. "You scared the hell out of me," he whispered.

"Just a bus."

"You didn't hurt anyone dispatching it, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Good. How's your ankle?"

"Fine," Saix told him. "Check my chart if you're that worried."

Xemnas withdrew and studied his face for a quiet moment. "Why were you in front of a moving bus?"

"I dropped something and it was going to run over it."

Xemnas frowned. "You totaled a bus for something like that."

"No," Saix said and held up his left hand and thumbing the thin platinum gold band loosely circling his ring finger. "I totaled a bus for this."

"I'm sorry," Xemnas said. "We traded because of me."

Saix blushed. "Don't be. I didn't put it on a chain."

"You don't like chains."

"I prefer them to smashing buses."

Xemnas had it. That's why he was acting oddly. "Saix, are you sulking?"

"So?"

Laughing, Xemnas kissed him. "It's just a sprained ankle."

The blue-haired man just laid back and groaned.

"So would you like me to wheel you home in a wheelchair or carry you to the cab?" He asked, teasing him.

Saix didn't answer. Xemnas reached up and played with the band and the man's fingers, pensive.

"You've changed a lot you know," Saix said quietly, warmly. "Not just having a heart, I mean."

"Of course I have," Xemnas said softly. He'd learned so much preparing for this job, and now that he was here, that knowledge was so miniscule compared to everything he saw, day to day, week upon week, year upon year. "Kingdom Hearts is everything. I know that now."

"Everything?" Saix asked, a little alarmed.

Xemnas looked at him. "Oh! No. More like, it's everyone. In a place like this you can really feel it. Everything we did before it… It was all wrong. In a place like this, every day, you can touch any world and put everything you are behind it to change it for the better. I told you once it was atonement. Maybe it still is."

"No," Saix said, squeezing his hand gently. "Not any more." And Xemnas looked up at him with the startled look of someone who realized that they might be on the wrong path. Saix brushed the hair out of his face and left his palm at the silvery hairline. "You've atoned, is what I mean."

Relief passed over Xemnas's dark features and he started playing with the ring again. "Sometimes I think about going back and seeing all of them again."

"No point though, right?"

Xemnas nodded. "No one knows who either of us are here. Not… in that sense. Going back after all I put them through… after all I put you through…"

"Don't," Saix growled softly. "Think what you will of them, but don't lump me in too. I have no grudges, and no regrets."

"Me either," Xemnas said. "I didn't used to feel that way, but…" He smiled. "I guess I have atoned."

Saix chewed his lip pensively. "Maybe you should contact them."

"What?"

"You still feel guilty about everything that happened, so contact them. Atonement is only for when you can't say sorry, right? So apologize to them."

Xemnas didn't reply, and Saix didn't push it, knowing he was thinking about it. He didn't know what everyone else had done after that second attempt at Kingdom Hearts. Xemnas had sworn off Kingdom Hearts and everything to do with it after he'd picked up Saix from Oblivion that day. But he hadn't known what to do besides. Once he had told Saix he felt conflicted, stripped of his purpose and free of its chains at the same time. He'd wanted something to pursue, some greater purpose to chase than just simply existing. Too bright to be content with simply having his heart back, especially when he'd had to do nothing to achieve it, he'd been turbulent for years. They'd fought a lot over stupid things, Xemnas starting most of them because he had nothing else to do. Saix didn't dream nearly so big, and it had been hard until Zexion had sent a message by Moogle to them. Moogles were expensive, but if you didn't know where someone was, it was likely they did.

Radiant Garden had been growing, and the old castle had been replaced by a library, a train system was being built and the old Bastion had been cleared away to make room for a University. Zexion had told them they were welcome to come see the changes to their old home. Saix hadn't really cared, but Xemnas had, and Saix had gone with him to see both of the new buildings. The library had been one thing. The University had been quite another. Saix had barely to suggest it and Xemnas had joined him in the workforce at last, not because he cared about the work he found, but because it paid for the classes in science and a different kind of healing than magic.

So Saix had let him wheel him down to a cab in the wheelchair, let him bind ice packs to the swollen ankle and settle him far more comfortably than was strictly necessary when they got home. Because once, before Xemnas had found purpose, Saix had accused him in a fight of giving into the darkness of the heart all over again. In a way, he'd been doing exactly that as he'd sank. Xemnas hadn't said a word after that, but had shaken Saix awake hours later in the middle of the night and asked why he hadn't given in long before that. And Saix had told him the truth.

_Because I've been trying to prevent it._

_Why? I've been hurting you, but you're still trying. Why?_

And he'd shrugged. _There's nothing else I can do for you but love you._

Saix had never seen him cry before or since, but that night had changed them both. Saix had learned to think of himself a little more instead of the blind devotion he'd practiced, and Xemnas had learned to think of himself a little less and to love what he already had instead of everything he tried to but couldn't reach. For Xemnas especially it had brought an understanding of the Heart that beat inside him, inside of Saix, and inside of everyone. And because of Saix he treated it with respect, compassion and patience. And Kingdom Hearts smiled back at him every time, through a child with broken bone in a splint, through a new mother whose baby had lived against the odds, through an old man whose wife had passed painlessly in the night, and told him, "Because of you she's at peace now. Thank you."

It was more than he deserved, but he knew that darkness all too well. It had ruled him since before he could remember, long before his memory split into two very different roads and a wealth of conflicted emotions and memories. All of that was vague now.

And, like the darkness, it was far behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

Finale, Part I

Stepping out of the only convenience store open in all Radiant Garden, Marluxia rifled through the bag, checking the name of each of its contents against the list in his mind. Crackers, orange juice, pink stuff, chicken noodle soup, and other sick-person's paraphernalia. Sighing again, he set out along the road back toward their hotel.

Gods, that had been a disaster.

Vexen had started feeling unwell at the Night of Lights ceremony the night before, and had spent a long time getting acquainted with the porcelain god in the bathroom. Marluxia had managed to get the room service to bring him lemon soda and that had gotten him to sleep. He'd only woken once in the night to dry heave for a while. Marluxia had lain in bed listening, not to his lover's efforts, but to those in the next room. Not a lot was clear, but he was hearing Axel's name in Roxas's voice in that tone of voice caused only by severe pain or a good lay.

Marluxia had buried his face under a pillow to drown it out. Worse, Vexen had fallen back in bed apologizing for being too loud before giving in to exhaustion too quickly for Marluxia to correct him.

Leaving Christmas morning to find supplies to settle Vexen's stomach so they could get home, Marluxia had run into Axel in the lobby just as the younger man had finished a string of inquiries at the front desk.

"M…Marluxia…" Axel said, surprised and fumbling for a smooth reaction. "What a coincidence…"

Trying very hard not to punch him in the stomach (or perhaps lower), Marluxia had murmured acknowledgment and sped for the door.

"I _knew_ I knew that hair," chimed a female voice from behind Marluxia. Turning, the Graceful Assassin found Larxene and a redheaded man dressed in a suit and tie leaving the convenience store.

"Larxene," Marluxia said. "Hello."

"Hello to you too," Larxene smirked. "Scoring with Vex in a hotel, are we?"

"Nothing of the sort," Marluxia said. "And before you get ideas about my bedroom ambitions, he got sick last night." He hefted the bag meaningfully. "What about you?" He nodded at the man. "Scoring on a holiday?"

Larxene tipped her head toward the man. "This is Reno, a fellow Turk. Say hello to Marluxia, Reno."

"Yo," Reno grinned. "I think I saw you in Agrabah this summer, yeah?"

"Yeah," Marluxia said, feeling far too grumpy to really care. Larxene read his face easily enough.

"All right," she said. "Vexen's sick, yes, but as I recall withstanding cockblock is your specialty. So what's the face?"

In the end, Larxene had to coax him to a snow covered bench and sit him down and bribe him with Reno's hip flask. So Marluxia told them about Axel and Roxas and their hotel room. Larxene bit back a laugh, and despite the pink-haired man's absurd scowl, or maybe because of it, she lost the fight and burst out laughing. Leaning against the bench from the back side, Reno was pensive. "Sounds like they'd be fun in a threesome, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," snapped Marluxia. "Larxene, shut up."

"It's so stupid!" She giggled. "I'm sorry, but that's just so… hehehe… ahaha! Gods! You poor bastard."

Reno nodded sagely. "Guess the only thing to do is to take him home and nurse him back to health, eh? Just try again at New Year's."

"Don't be flippant," Larxene chided, "it's rude."

"So's laughing," Reno pointed out. "And I'm not being flippant. Look, I'm not giving you the details, but four years ago I cracked some ribs and punctured a lung right before I was supposed to take the holiday off with Rude."

"So you pissed someone off," Larxene translated.

"No details, Larx," chided Reno. "I got out of the hospital around New Year's and Rude had a nice dinner set up for me in my apartment, with champagne and morphine and everything. So yeah, it sucks that he got sick, but can you fix it? No. Best to just move on, man."

Vexen was feeling better when Marluxia got back, though Marluxia made him get back in bed and work on keeping crackers down while he gathered up their stuff and packed it.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not staying in this room," Marluxia said. "We can get another or go back to Oblivion, whichever you feel up to."

Vexen sipped a little water. "What's wrong with this one?"

Before Marluxia could reply, a loud thump came from the next room, followed by escalating moans. Vexen looked at his lover in something close to disappointment. "So?"

"_Axel~!"_

His long hair flaring out around his head, Vexen whirled toward the wall at the head of their bed. "Impossible… The odds are…"

"Not important," Marluxia interrupted. "Can we get the hell out of here, please?"

Long after sundown, Marluxia finally had Vexen resting in their bed back at Oblivion. Their stuff was still in duffels on the floor, the plastic convenience store bag still full of the non-perishables. Vexen's stomach bug had escalated and left him weathering the gross discomfort of a continually upset stomach and sore stomach muscles.

"Twenty-four hour flu," Vexen managed during a lull in the distracting nature of his symptoms. "You have to kind of ride it out. I should be better this evening. You'll probably catch it, too," he said. "Sorry."

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Marluxia teased. When Vexen frowned dubiously, the pink-haired man shrugged. "Look, that's not the important part anyway. What I want is you. For Christmas or for New Year's or for a birthday or any day. You." He stroked back the hair from Vexen's forehead. "Try to rest, okay?" He kissed his forehead.

Feebly, Vexen held him down long enough to leave a peck on Marluxia's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," Marluxia said softly. "Merry Christmas."

"Happy New Year," Vexen with a weak, wry smirk. "The sooner, the better."

Marluxia shared the grin. "Yes," he said, bumping their foreheads together gently.

One Week Later

"Someone is laughing at us," Vexen observed, and gasped, feeling teeth. "What was that for?"

"The idea," Marluxia said, freeing his mouth, "is to stare death in the face and laugh."

"Meaning…?

"When life gives you lemons…"

"Marluxia…"

"When your godson and his lover keep finding excuses to have loud sex within earshot, have louder sex."

Vexen paled. "No. Gods no."

"I thought you'd say that," Marluxia said, and handcuffed Vexen to the bed, then blindfolded him. "So I brought some things to distract you." Collecting another convenience store purchase, Marluxia sat astride Vexen and withdrew the first culprit. Uncapping the bottle, he dribbled a little of the liquid on Vexen's lips, then scattered little flecks of it all over his body. Droplets clung to erect nipples, peppered his collarbone, slid slowly down from the side of his abdomen toward the bed. Vexen shuddered, licking his lips.

"Chocolate sauce?"

Smirking, Marluxia said nothing and lowered his head to lap the mess up with his tongue, ears pricked for the clatter of the handcuffs. Like little chimes, they struck the metal frame of the bed every time Vexen shifted or writhed. Beneath his tongue, the pale skin shuddered. Marluxia repeated it with smears of caramel, thin little rivers of strawberry syrup. He finished with a 'condom' of whipped cream. When he lifted Vexen's blindfold, the man was nowhere near his limit, but he had quite forgotten their noisy neighbors in the next hotel room. Marluxia pushed the basket he'd placed their tasty toys in toward Vexen and removed the handcuffs. Then, in a flash of inspiration, tied the blindfold snug around Vexen's mouth, and gestured to the basket of goodies. "No words. Point if you want me to touch you, use those if you want me to taste you."

Vexen blushed hotly, and gestured. Marluxia complied and caressed his lover's inner thigh, kneading the top muscles and stroking tenderly the inside flesh. When Vexen smeared sticky caramel at the hollow of his throat, Marluxia sucked it clean. The pink-haired man's tongue found strawberry on Vexen's tongue, chocolate on the inner arch of his left foot, caramel behind his knee. Whipped cream limited his mouth to the base of his cock, caramel to the round curve of one buttock, strawberry to the inside of his elbow. He could point to his entrance and Marluxia would trace the rim with a finger, penetrating him gently and working him open with practiced ease. Vexen took off the gag and put the food back in the basket and looked at Marluxia as he sat back from the blond, expecting another order. Reaching for the basket, Vexen smeared a little chocolate on his fingers and spread it across his lips and tongue. Then he pushed the basket aside. Marluxia leaned over him and kissed him hard, pressing him deep into the pillows, pinching and rolling Vexen's nipples until the man broke the kiss to moan, grinding their hips together. Obligingly, Marluxia flipped him over and pressed inside, a hand curled around Vexen's cock, stroking him as he began to move, working him up. Vexen could be loud when given cause, and Marluxia gave him cause, fingering his shaft and placing a deliberately firm thumb over the hole in the head just as he angled himself in deeper, striking him at his most vulnerable spot. Vexen called out deliciously, his legs trembling in the onslaught. Called Marluxia's name, affirmations, wordless keens of pleasure. Marluxia joined him, moving his lips over Vexen's spine and gasping his name as he drew closer to release.

"Faster…" Vexen begged, shuddering. "More… Lumaria!"

Marluxia felt hot liquid coat his fingers and palm the same time he heard his true name and came hard, leaning low over Vexen's body to whisper, "Even," near his ear. Vexen shuddered and fell into the bed. Marluxia followed and lay, breathless and gasping, beside him.

A little hoarse, Vexen scowled at him. "You did that on purpose," he accused softly.

Marluxia grinned, and they were rewarded the next day with running into Axel and Roxas in the lobby at checkout, the pair unable to meet their eyes as they exchanged pleasantries.

"Merry Christmas," Marluxia said cheerfully when they parted, and not a little maliciously.

Vexen smirked at them as well.

"And happy New Year."

After they'd left, Axel looked at Roxas. "You don't think they got hotel at Christmas, do you?"

"I don't care," Roxas said, wrinkling his nose. "The sooner I can move in with you the better."

Axel smirked, and squeezed his ass. "Yeah," he agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

And so it begins. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry to those waiting so effing long for this long-promised finale to the Another Life: Bond of Flame story. The story itself is on devArt, but as an... easter egg, if you will, the epilogue is here in its, er, full glory. All six chapters. Mini-chapters. nearly 13,000 words. The rating is mature for good reason, I'm afraid. F-bombs and some raciness throughout. Critique is welcome, as always, and I apologize in advance for any scarring on the part of OOCness, inaccuracies, loopholes, excessive worldbuilding, etc...

When the Kingdom Hearts Characters are mine at long last, I shall live on the royalties and be able to afford things like eating and rent. Until that time, whenever it may be, these people belong to Square Enix and, by some twist of copyrights, to Disney. This fic is a fantastic exploration of possibility and in no way asserts canon presented by the games.

* * *

Finale, Part II

Axel leaned over the controls, hammering buttons without really paying attention.

"You're not even trying," Roxas said from behind him. "You have to shoot the heartless."

Turning in his seat as the "Game Over" overtook the screen, Axel frowned at him. "I know how it works, Rox."

"Sure." Roxas shifted his bag where it crossed his chest and withdrew his vidphone from a pocket.

Rising from the chair, Axel stretched and snuck a peck on Roxas's cheek and turned to face the blond's blushed scowl with a brazen salute. He paid for his time and met the younger man outside. "Any other errands?" He asked.

"Nope," Roxas said, looking over the list he'd taped to the back of his phone. "Except your summons to the University."

Axel deflated a little inside. "Right. Let's get it over with."

Predictably, Axel's meeting was with Balthier. Roxas was left to his own devices, in this case his music player, in the reception area. Balthier led Axel back to an office in the same section and shut the door.

Bidden to sit in the comfortable chair before Balthier's enormous oak desk, Axel sat and rested his elbow on the arm rest, chin in hand. "I don't suppose this is the inevitable talk? Because you're a touch late. A baker's dozen of Roxas's devoted fans and family and god-parents, god-uncles and even a god-duck have got you beat."

"No," Balthier said tacitly. "I feel that it goes without saying that if you hurt that kid half the kingdom will brutally maim and slowly kill you. No need to be redundant." Reaching to a desk drawer, he pulled an envelope out of it. "No. This is why I called you here."

Axel took the envelope and looked at it. "What is it?"

Balthier merely gestured.

Shrugging, Axel slid his finger under the flap and tore it open. Inside was a folded letter of thick, slightly-textured letter paper that looked and felt extremely expensive. Tucked in beside it were four monetary notes whose individual value made Axel blanch. Finding Balthier's expression unreadable, Axel bypassed the notes daintily and withdrew the letter and scanned it rapidly, eyes widening in increments as he progressed. At the signature at the end, his eyes bulged widely, bright and astonished.

"This… this is…"

"A letter of acceptance," Balthier affirmed. "You've been enrolled in courses that start a week after New Year's. They should give you a good idea of how things work and what's been going on the past two decades."

Axel ran his eyes over the numbers, few though there were, included in the statement. "Who _paid_ for this?"

Balthier smirked. "You're looking at a full ride courtesy of the King himself, as well as just about everyone who's been threatening to kill you if you hurt Roxas. Between all of them, your tuition is covered, your textbooks and supplies are covered, unless you choose something really obscure to major in, and a number of other things besides. It was also thought best that you live in Radiant Garden, so an apartment is on hold for you for after Christmas. So what do you think? Want to give it a shot?"

"Not to be rude, but no isn't even an option at this point."

"While it would be frightfully rude and ungrateful," Balthier said smoothly, "the reason it was given to me to tell you was to encourage you to refuse if you truly wish to. Nobody thought you'd say no to a benefactor. I am not a benefactor in this equation. I signed that page and I called you in today. Aerith and Leon have been managing the rest. So honestly, Axel, do you want to do this?"

Axel leaned back in his chair, withdrawing into himself and trying to shove out of his head the memory of the huge numbers printed into the page. He'd leave Castle Oblivion and live in the middle of Radiant Garden, his old home. And when Roxas graduated, he'd join him there, friend or lover.

"Yeah," Axel said finally, meeting Balthier's eyes. "Yes I do."

"Good. And before you ask, the money in there is all yours. Merry Christmas from the University. Except Aerith. Apparently she has something else in store for you? She didn't say, except that Roxas already has it."

Axel tried to keep his composure. "Yeah, Roxas said something about it." Three little words on the subject, in fact. He'd been sleeping poorly since the idea had been put in his head.

Balthier raised an eyebrow at the young man's discomfort and waved a hand. "Very well, then. It's almost Christmas after all, so I'll send you on your way. Thank you for stopping by. We'll see you in January then?"

Numbly, Axel nodded and blurted a heartfelt, if awkward, 'thank you.' Pocketing the letter and the cash, he joined Roxas in the reception area.

"Hey," he said, still thinking about the big numbers and three little words.

Roxas looked up and pulled off his earphones. "Hey. Ready?"

"Yeah."

Oblivion lived up to its name that Christmas Eve. It was devoid of life and sound, absolutely silent and still as the last of its denizens came home to pack up some clothes and depart for the holiday. Axel's heart had begun to pound wildly, feeling the end was nigh. It was time. Hauling his bag out to the front door, he leaned against the frame and tried to breathe slowly.

Roxas finally peeked out from around the corner, seeming his usual self but incapable of eye contact. "Shall we?" He asked.

Axel nodded and reached for the door handle and met Roxas's hand there. Both of them flinched and withdrew the limb, wide-eyed and flushing, until Axel cleared his throat in the silence and opened the door.

The train ride back to Radiant Garden seemed much longer this time. It was also much more packed. Known for its cultural embrasure, the city was packed with tourists and refugees and natives alike, people swarming the snow blanketed avenues in soft furs and puffy, snug parkas.

"The Night of Lights," Roxas murmured, leaning toward the window to watch Radiant Garden come back into view, the night sky lit by street lamps and the reflective glow of the snow.

"Hmm?" Axel asked softly, leaning in close to hear better and feeling a flutter in his stomach as his brain registered Roxas's leg pressed against his own.

"The Night of Lights," Roxas said without turning, his ears suspiciously red. "On Christmas Eve everyone gathers in the square around a central item, a fountain or a decorated tree, in the dark. Then, at midnight, the icon is lit and then everyone in the crowd lights a candle or turns on a flashlight or ignites some form of light. The whole city lights up, and Merlin sets off fireworks. Then little cups of mulled cider are passed out and everyone drinks and sings carols for a bit. Then the city workers dim the lights of the icons until they're dark and everyone takes their lights home."

"Do you want to go?"

"Yeah," Roxas said. "If you want to, I mean…"

"I want to." Axel blurted, heady with the nearness of the other's body.

Roxas turned and smiled. "We should find something to do for the next three hours then, huh?"

Axel nodded. "How about dinner?"

"We can just eat when we get in," Roxas pointed out.

"No," Axel said, reaching for the envelope in his pocket. "I'd rather use my Christmas bonus to spoil you."

Roxas looked at him for a moment as though he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard. Axel was having a little trouble believing the words had left him, himself.

"Okay," the younger man said softly, ears reddening again.

Once off the train, Axel's heart leaped into his throat again. They had to check in with Aerith's gift, two pre-paid nights at a ritzy hotel, and get their belongings settled, which meant for both to sling their bags onto the bed, struggle to not run into one another on the way back out, and nearly forget the keycards in the process.

Axel stuffed his card in the envelope, safe in a zippered pocket, and followed Roxas down a salt-strewn cobbled road. People passed chatting and laughing and crunching the ice and snow under their boots, and for once neither Axel nor Roxas stood out in the crowd. Feeling brave in the anonymity, Axel reached for Roxas's hand and found it was already halfway across the space between them and reaching for his own. After a little bumping and blind arranging of fingers, they finished the trip with hands comfortably twined, and parted only when Roxas stepped up to the door of the pastaria and asked after open seats.

"Pasta?" Axel asked as they were led inside to a table for two.

"I like pasta," Roxas said, and sat in one of the wiry chairs. "And so do you. Besides, this place is expensive enough to be considered spoiling and takes advantage of the new law."

"What new law?"

"Radiant Garden's drinking age is fifteen," Roxas explained, "and they finally passed an amendment to include off-world qualifiers. Like me."

"I definitely don't remember that."

"It used to be eighteen," Roxas said. "but so many of the worlds yielding refugees didn't even have a legal drinking age, or not one closely observed. Lowering the age helped."

"Couldn't people just travel in, then, with that new bit, and get however much they want?"

"Sure," Roxas said. "But alcohol isn't allowed on trains or in the spaceport. You can come in and buy as much as you want, but you can't leave with it."

"Oh."

Smirking, Roxas palmed his identification to the waiter and Axel followed suit. Then the blond ordered them both drinks and a basket of bread. Then they were left alone with their menus.

Axel couldn't deny that the place was expensive. He also found he couldn't deny that they had extremely good food. Both of them left happy, if a little buzzed, and full.

They spent a generous amount of time wandering the area after that. The shopkeepers had left no room for doubt that it was Christmas Eve and the Night of Lights. Warm light glimmered and sparked from every window, drifted in patches across the snow. They passed restaurants, some multiple times, and found their tables filling in the windows.

"The closer you get to eleven p.m.," Roxas narrated absently, "the more full the restaurants get. Ideally, you go out at ten, eat, and head over to your destination around eleven or eleven thirty."

It was also hard to find candles. They finally found a little novelty shop that had three orange scented candles left. Roxas picked out two of them and Axel snuck in and paid for them, earning a look of reproach from the blond. Axel cheerfully ignored it and claimed his candle for a sniff of the wax. "Oranges?"

"It doesn't fit the season well, but it'll smell better when you get it next to the mulled cider later," Roxas pointed out, leading them over to a central square whose icon was an enormous fir tree studded with gleaming glass bulbs and balls, sparkling tinsel and colored ribbon mixed with white.

"More cultural symbolism?" Axel asked softly, fingering a strand of ribbon as they examined the huge tree. Roxas nodded and pulled him back toward one of the benches lining the square and they sat. "Should we head up to the front soon?"

Roxas shook his head. "View's better from here. Trust me."

Axel checked his vidphone. Eleven-thirty. "Does it begin at midnight?"

"Yeah," Roxas said, and launched into an explanation that the show didn't technically begin until all the restaurants and businesses had closed for the evening and the employees were ready to join in, too. "Because when you think about it," Roxas said, "There's no business to be had at that time anyway, and it's unfair to just pass them by when they're already integral to the tradition."

The square filled up slowly, then more and more rapidly. Roxas kept to the bench, and Axel stayed with him, their hands tangled again. Axel played with his fingers absently to pass the time, feeling their shape and temperature. It gave him a violent start when everything suddenly went black.

"Shh," Roxas said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Hold up your candle," he whispered.

Scooting in a little closer, Axel held it up and out toward Roxas, who had the lighter, only realizing after a moment that he could light it with his bare hand. He rejected the idea, as it meant he didn't need to lean so close. A soft murmur rode through the crowd clustered around the tree.

Then, a star appeared. Dimly at first, then smoldering bright silver as the tree beneath it slowly took shape, sparks of white light thrown off the glimmering ornaments and the sheen of the ribbons. Beside him, Roxas flicked the lighter on, as did many others in the square, and lit their candles. The smell of oranges rose in the air, mingling with cinnamon, honeydew, berry, pine, and a dozen other flavors with mixed results. Not far from them, Axel thought he smelled spiced rum and grinned. If you could smell it, there was a candle for it.

The city was bright again, softly glowing in the light of thousands of little candles. Right next to the tree were Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather, the three good fairies, holding red, green, and blue candles respectively and singing softly. Others around them took up the melody, a few the harmony, and Axel didn't recognize the words, but didn't mind listening as Roxas joined in.

Not long after the singing began and a soft chorus hung over the city, a gentle hum of unified voices and candlelight and mingled scents, a loud pop and a crackle heralded the first of the loud, colorful fireworks. Merlin worked dragons across the sky, seemed to pull stars down from the heavens and released them with a bang, the little sparks of light exploding into spackle flower. Well-wishes danced across the sky, Keyblades fought purple Heartless and silver Nobodies, the faces of old heroes flashed in colors and Axel gasped when he saw Roxas's face.

"Ventus," Roxas said softly. "He looks everything like me, but we're not the same. He was before my father's time."

Axel nodded. In a final burst of shapes and colors, the sky flashed bright white with a final surge of silvery bursts and then, right on time, the icons went out, leaving only the people and their tiny lights. Roxas stood up on the bench and hopped up to the road level. Axel followed suit, dripping hot wax across the paving stones. They took little cups of hot mulled cider from a trestle table and set off at a walk. Roxas wove along alleys and sidestreets, sidestepping the crowds and leading them effortlessly back to their hotel room, where they opened the curtains far enough to safely settle the candles on the window sill and dimmed the lights.

Back in the warmth of the room, Roxas seemed about as nervous as Axel felt. Both retrieved their travel bags and fished inefficiently around the contents for a change of clothes and experienced a guilty pang for wanting to change in the bathroom. Axel got creative and pretended to need to use the bathroom and changed in there, flushing the toilet on his way out. Roxas followed suit.

Alone in the room, Axel kicked his bag over to a corner and sat down on the side of the bed closest to the window, trying really hard to not think about sex. He even achieved it, until Roxas vacated the bathroom and stirred up a flurry of exorbitant acts in Axel's imagination. The boy took one look at Axel on the bed and his head lurched, like he'd choked on his own spit and tried to cover it up, and went to a little cabinet. From it he withdrew a little bottle, unscrewed the cap, and downed it.

Axel joined him. "Liquor?"

Wordlessly, Roxas handed him a little bottle and went to turn off the lights. Only the candles illuminated the room now, and the boy moved them to the desk and shut the curtains. Then, he fidgeted, picking up a discarded shirt, Axel's, and rolled it up for tucking in an empty bureau. Watching him in the pale gold light and heavy shadows, Axel finally felt sure of something and stood. Removing a pair of pants from the blond's grip, he took him by both hands and led him over to the bed. Pulling the coverlet and sheet back, he laid him down and climbed on the mattress after him, sitting on his knees astride Roxas's hips.

"If there's one thing I know," Axel said wickedly, kissing Roxas's jaw while whispering in his ear. "It's that you like watching me. So pay attention." Then, leaning back on Roxas's upraised knees a little, he pulled his shirt over his head and flung it aside. Then he unlaced his pants, worked the elastic hem over his hips, and stood up to peel them off. Then he knelt again, sliding his hands up Roxas's stomach to his chest, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it aside. Then eased off his pants, sliding his pale legs free. Axel looked him over slowly, enjoying the view immensely before he covered Roxas's body with his own, their hips meeting and grinding as Axel shifted and fingered Roxas's nipples and sucked greedily at his lips before leaning in for a deep kiss. Their tongues slid together easily, weaving and probing and arching. Then Axel broke the kiss and leaned back slowly, running his hands greedily all over Roxas's body as he lifted his away and arched back. Where his body met Roxas's, his hands changed course and slid up his own thighs, fingers sliding just under the waistband of the very last of his clothing. He turned around and, still straddling Roxas who had other reasons now for not making eye contact, worked off the final garment with far more effort than was strictly necessary. When it had slid over his buttocks, he slid his hands down over the flesh, feeling silly but hearing Roxas's breathing speed up. Finally getting the garment off, he lowered himself back over Roxas, this time with his face to the boy's hips, fingering the hard bulge beneath the only boxers left between them. Roxas moaned, eyes half-lidded and face crimson. Axel threw the boxers away from the bed and slid his hands down the insides of Roxas's thighs, drinking in the sounds as he slid his mouth over the firm, naked cock between them.

Beneath him, Roxas arched and groaned, gasping. Axel savored it, caressing the rod with his tongue and sucking its tender head. Hearing Roxas's voice escape him in little, desperate moans made him almost painfully hard. Withdrawing his mouth and listening to Roxas beg him not to stop before he finally settled back down, he slid his hands down to the back entrance and probed gently there. Roxas gave a little shout of panic and Axel looked up. "I won't hurt you," Axel said softly, trying to comfort him. Caught in the moment, Roxas shook his head, frantic. "Are you scared?"

"Yes… I'm sorry. I just…"

"Shh," Axel said. "It's all right. I'll show you there's nothing to be afraid of."

"No…"

Axel moved over him and put a palm to Roxas's pale face. "Hear me out. I won't do anything to you I wouldn't have done to myself." Kissing the boy soundly, he withdrew and settled himself slowly over Roxas's cock, sitting below his belly in a way that completely exposed him. Roxas gasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly, muscles clenched and back arched. Pulling himself nearly completely off the boy's member, Axel lowered and took him in again, moving a little faster with every thrust. Roxas had thrown his head back when Axel called to him, pleading for him to look up. Roxas met his eyes and nearly came, renewing his thrusts to match Axel's rhythm.

"I want you," Axel moaned, stroking his cock where it stood, bare and hard and slick with early come. "Oh, Roxas…"

"Okay," Roxas said softly.

Axel looked up and paused, watching the boy steadily, carefully searching his face. "What?"

"Okay," Roxas repeated, beet red. "Show me what it feels like."

Off of him, Axel rolled Roxas onto his belly and pulled his hips up so he rested on his knees. Then, with one slickened finger, he worked him open carefully, gently, until his cock slid easily in.

"Nnn," Roxas moaned. Axel settled across his back, thrusting slowly, and laid his free palm over Roxas's lower belly, fingers just brushing the base of the boy's cock. Roxas shuddered deliciously and moaned, and Axel thrust harder, picking up speed and angling so that he hit the sweet spot deep inside. Desperately keening, Roxas moaned and called Axel's name. Axel thrust a while longer, and almost lost himself in it before he pulled out and laid Roxas on his back. "I hate you," Roxas gasped.

"You have a choice," Axel said wickedly. "Either you come inside me or I come inside you. Which is it?"

Roxas scowled up at him, spreading his legs. Salivating, Axel rolled him onto his side, lifted one of the boy's thighs and drove himself deep inside, hitting him hard and deep until Roxas gave a shout and spattered his belly and the sheets with white. Axel lost control then, and thrust wildly and hard into him until he came himself. Panting, he withdrew and collapsed beside Roxas on the bed. When he had the strength to lift himself up on an elbow, he reached over and brushed Roxas's sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

He'd waited too long. Roxas had already fallen asleep. Taking it upon himself to clean them both up, Axel crawled back into bed afterward and pulled the blankets in around them both. On the desk, the candles burned lower and lower, then went out. Pulling Roxas in close, Axel rested his chin on the soft blond hair. Roxas shifted, and looked up at him.

"Sorry," Axel said. "I didn't mean to wake you. Are you okay?"

Roxas snuggled closer. "Mm. Felt really good."

"You're really okay?"

"Axel," Roxas said, lifting his head to meet his lover's eyes. "I'm fine. I'm exactly where I want to be. Plus, you're naked. Go to sleep." With that, he snuggled up against Axel's chest and closed his eyes, breathing slowing to the steady rhythm of sleep. Axel sighed and leaned back into the pillow, falling asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes, at peace and at home.

End.


End file.
